Page 70 of A Vow of Shadow and Blood
The prince pulls my attention back to the present when he tugs me forward gently. He lowers his mouth to my wrist, his lips hovering just above the skin as his dark eyes look up at me. I suck in a breath as I watch his fangs extend, the sharp edge pressing against my flesh, ready to break the skin. He holds it there for a minute, and I have to fight my own need to press my skin against them.
What is wrong with me?I don’t enjoy vampires biting me. I never have. The only time I have even come close is when I know that I intend to poison them with the lethal edge of my blood, but that isn’t what I’m feeling right now. What I’m feeling is wrong and a complete betrayal of my kind. I straighten my back and shoot a cold stare down at the prince. The only reason I want him to bite me is because of what comes next. I remind myself of this just as his fangs slide beneath my flesh.
I cry out as the initial sting of his bite pierces my skin, but before I can react, an overwhelming pleasure surges through my body, igniting every fiber as it courses through my veins. The room around me seems to turn to dust as my mind focuses on nothing but the feel of the prince’s fangs drawing blood from me. I should hate this. I should be disgusted. He’s a monster who is taking what he has not earned, yet I cannot hide the sheer want that coils in my core at the feel of him drawing my blood.
I fight against the pleasure coursing through my veins as I search my brain for the reason I’m here.
Athriel?
I scream his name into the void of my mind, but receive nothing but a muffled response as though he is drowning within the confines of my mind. Panic ceases me as I fight to break free of the strange hold this creature has on me. As humans, we know very little about vampires and what they can do, and this feels like some kind of control he is using on me. No doubt as a way to keep me docile and compliant, but I won’t allow it. I slam mental fists against the walls of my mind, screaming at it to release Athriel, but nothing happens. I feel him clawing away in the distance, desperate to resurface.
I push and push until my temples throb and my head hurts. Black dots fill my eyes as I try to make sense of what is happening. The world seems to slowly start to fade, but I don’t let go. I remind myself of Willow and Tori and all the things I have had to sacrifice to get to this point. I force myself to remember what I came here to do and what is at stake if I fail. I take a mental axe to the smooth walls of my mind and sink it deep within it.
A roar rips through me, tearing at the very walls of my mind, and amidst the chaos, I hear Athriel’s gasp.
Are you ok?
It takes a minute before he responds.
Yes?The word comes out raspy. I’ve never heard him like that before.
Panic clutches at my chest, holding it in a vice-like grip.
What happened?
I feel him shake his head. I do not know. It was as though something was holding me beneath water. I could not escape.
I don’t understan—
We must act now,he cuts me off, but I pause for some strange reason, unwilling to give the command I know he needs. My magic may have a voice, but I control it, and it cannot act unless I allow it.Give me the command and I will do as you wish.
Now,I say.Kill the prince.
A roar of burning fire fills every vein in my body, and my head falls back instinctively. My eyes open, and the entire room comes back into focus as the sensation of my blood morphing wracks my body. The sound of the prince’s moans turns to a strangled cry, and when I whip my head to look at him, I find his eyes wide and fixed on me. Where there was once a cocky arrogance, now lies fear.
He pushes me away, but the strength he once had is diminished, and I easily right myself. I try to catch my breath as he clutches at his throat in desperation. He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, and the desperate look in his eyes brings a sick twist of pleasure within me. My eyes do not leave his as he tries to stand, stumbling on his feet as he tries to charge me. He doesn’t get very far, and I watch as he falls to the ground, his knees hitting it with a thud.
This is my only chance, so I act quickly, driving my foot into his chest and sending him crashing to the ground—his back hitting it first, followed by his head. His wide eyes stare at me in shock, his beautiful features twisted in rage.A beautiful monster.I take slow steps in his direction, crouching beside himas he struggles to regain his breath. Dipping my head, I speak just loud enough for him to hear.
“This is for all the innocent purebloods you slaughtered back at the bloodhouse and for every human you have ever sent to the burn pits. I hope you rot in the deepest pits of hell.” My words are a harsh sneer, and when I move back to look at him, I see lines of anger twist his face, but his body is frozen. The realization that he can do nothing is clear on his face, and a single tear falls from his eye.
That’s enough, we must continue the plan.
I smile at Athriel’s words, remembering what we discussed earlier. I move quickly to the table, snatching the fork the prince used from his plate. Hurrying back, I press the cold silver into his palm, and with one final glance, I dash from the room. I throw open the doors and let out a strangled scream.
“Help! Somebody help! The prince has been poisoned!” I let the memory of Amabel’s blade sliding across Tori’s throat assault me until tears spill from my eyes. In my mind, I’m catching her in my arms all over again, pressing my hands against the wound in her neck. I no longer force the tears. They’re real. The pain isreal.I break into a run down the hallway and am met by a group of servants whose eyes widen at my words. They take one glance at my state but do not move.
“The prince is dying! You need to get help.” I play my part well; the doting pureblood, terrified by what she has just witnessed.
Suddenly, the group disperses as though they have only just heard what I said. I refrain from rolling my eyes and stick to the role of the terrified human. I throw details in their direction just as Athriel and I had practiced before I arrived for dinner. I see the horror on their faces when they realize that my accusation of poison comes from whatever the prince ate at dinner. A heavy guilt fills my stomach as I imagine who will take the blame for my transgression.
You had no choice,Athriel reminds me, but I’m not so sure that’s entirely true. There is always a choice; the only question is whether you are willing to face its consequences.Or allow someone else to.
Before I can dwell on it, a cloud of thick shadows materializes before us, forcing me and the few servants running for help to stop dead in our tracks. The shadow casts in the shape of a large circle that blocks our path. Three figures step out of the darkness, all of them wearing stoic expressions.
“Where is the prince?” The first to speak is a tall, attractive male with dirty-blond hair, scooped up in a messy bun. His dark eyes flicker to the servants as the thick muscles of his arms tighten beneath his black fight leathers.
“Dining room.” One of the servants answers, her voice shaking with every word.
